


Trial By Fire

by TheGreatCatsby



Category: All New X-Factor, Marvel (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, fallen angel AU, quickbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:51:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2592488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remy is a fallen angel serving time by finding the newly fallen and directing them to Charles Xavier, who's set up a program to help them adapt to life on Earth. One night, a white-haired angel falls. And Remy picks up the pieces, more or less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trial By Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a prompt given to me on Tumblr for a fallen angel/demon AU, and quickbit. My whole concept of fallen angels and demons is loosely based on the book Blood & Feathers (by Lou Morgan), which is a fantastic urban fantasy novel (first in a series) about fallen angels, demons, and the constant war between them. I highly recommend it. At any rate, these characters are much less active in a war. But there is one. Because why not? 
> 
> Various X-Men characters will make cameos or be mentioned. Like Erik. And Wanda. No one uses code-names in this universe. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When Remy came across the burning pit in a field, he found a man fallen in the middle. And he could've sworn he saw burning wings. 

But then the man stood up, dusted himself off like this was no less ordinary than getting cat fur on your clothes, and started walking towards Remy. He didn't have wings. 

But he did have white hair. Shockingly white. Which was odd, because he wasn't old. He looked about Remy's age. 

“Um,” Remy said, when the man got close enough to lock eyes with. 

“Sorry for the disturbance,” the man said. His eyes were very blue. “It hasn't been the best of nights for me.” 

Remy thought he ought to do something. He was usually better about this. He opened his mouth to ask what the man was doing, but all he got out was “What--”

And then the other man disappeared in a gust of wind. 

*

“Yeah, uh, listen, about that thing that happened the other night,” Remy took a sip of his drink and tried not to look at the person across from him, “I got a bit distracted and didn't get ta ask the appropriate questions.” 

“The appropriate questions,” the man, Logan, growled. He was very short and, usually, very angry. He looked on the edge of being angry right now. 

“Y'know, like, 'are you human?'” Remy swallowed as Logan's eyes narrowed. “'D'you want ta come meet people like you, ta help you adjust?' Stuff like that.” 

“You need to be careful, LeBeau,” Logan said, leaning forward. “You go asking those questions to anyone you deem suspicious, and you're gonna bring unwanted attention. And that's the last thing we need.” 

“You'd think we'd be able ta tell,” Remy muttered. “That'd be pretty useful.” 

“We're not here 'cause it's easy,” Logan said. “You see where this guy went?” 

“Non,” Remy said. “He just vanished in a gust of wind.” 

“Since most humans can't do that,” Logan said, “I'm guessing he's not human. Which means I want you to find him. Since you screwed up.” 

“He could be anywhere,” Remy said. 

“Well, then,” Logan said, pushing himself out of his seat. “Get creative.” 

*

Remy was nothing if not creative. Usually, he knew how to work. The problem was, he was used to letting other people do the whole “are you human and do you want to come to Xavier's” spiel. He just tracked them down. 

He figured he could track this one down, too. The white hair would help; not many young men had white hair, and it was a feature that most people wouldn't forget. And Remy knew a lot of people, so he had a lot of places covered. 

It didn't help that this guy had crash-landed only an hour away from New York City. But, Remy thought, that would just make things interesting. 

It took a lot of needling and bargaining and calling in favors (and in one case, alcohol) but he finally managed to track the man to a run down apartment building in Lower Manhattan. He'd rented it from a woman who didn't ask questions, who knew one of Remy's friends from his thieving days (back when Remy stole just because stealing from humans was so easy it was ridiculous) and was prone to getting weird characters as customers. She gave Remy the apartment number, and he went up. 

The man's apartment was on the top floor, and Remy stood at the end of the hallway trying to figure out what, exactly, he was going to say before confronting this guy. The good thing was, he was fairly sure the guy wasn't human. The bad thing was, he probably wasn't stable. Remy hadn't really been when he'd crashed. Hence the thieving. 

After five minutes he gathered up his courage. Logan would kill him if he didn't make contact. So he walked over to the door, planted himself firmly in front of it, and knocked three times. 

The door opened a few inches, the white-haired man appearing in the crack with his eyes narrowed. “It's you,” he said. 

“Yup,” Remy said. He held out his hand. “Remy, fallen angel. And you are?” 

“Wondering why you're so careless with information,” the man said. But he opened the door a little wider. “Pietro.” He didn't take Remy's hand. 

“Can I come in?” Remy asked. 

“Why not,” Pietro muttered, opening the door wider and stepping back to allow Remy entrance. 

The apartment was pretty barren, which wasn't surprising considering Pietro had just arrived. There was furniture, minimalist, looked like it could have been from Ikea. Pietro was still standing by the door, so Remy plopped down on the couch and grinned at him, trying to get him to relax. 

“What're you in for?” 

“How is that any of your business?” Pietro asked, folding his arms in front of his chest. 

“We're all here for the same reason,” Remy said. “We all did something bad and we all gotta pay. Now, you can go this alone or you can get help.” 

“And you're here to help,” Pietro said. 

“Exactly,” Remy said. “I come on the behalf of Charles Xavier. He's been permanently exiled ta Earth, but he doesn't want anyone else ta suffer the same fate. So he helps us blend in, keep things safe for the humans, and hopefully, helps us go back ta where we came from.” 

“I've heard of him,” Pietro said. “Not what he did, though.” 

“Used his gift the wrong way,” Remy said. “At least, that's the rumor. Now he just uses it for good.” 

“And I'm supposed to trust this man?” Pietro asked. “As you said, we're all here for the same reasons. We've all done something wrong, and we're all being punished. We're all not worthy. That includes not being worthy of trust.” 

Remy shrugged. “Maybe so. But what other options do you have?” 

*

In the end, Pietro decided to accompany Remy to Westchester, where Xavier kept his headquarters. It was a reluctant decision, and Pietro seemed ready to bolt by the time they reached the mansion gates, but he stayed, even when Hank opened the doors and let them enter. 

Xavier kept an office, which seemed like a strangely ordinary thing for a fallen angel. But they were all forced to live amongst the ordinary. Remy ushered Pietro into the office and closed the door behind him. Then he turned to Hank, who had been watching them with undisguised curiosity. 

“What did he do?” Hank asked. 

“Don't know,” Remy said. 

“What's his gift?” 

“Don't know.” Remy ran a hand through his hair. From behind the door, he heard a raised voice. “I think he just found out Xavier's, though.” 

“It's not pleasant for anyone,” Hank said. “I can see why--” He cut himself off. 

“Why he's here forever?” Remy finished for him. “Yeah, he is a bit...scary.” 

“Mmm,” Hank said. “Do you think he'll stay here, or...?”

“He seems solitary,” Remy said. “But maybe staying among his own kind is the best for him. For now. Until he gets used ta this whole thing.” 

The doors opened. Pietro walked out, followed by Xavier in his wheelchair. “He will stay here,” Xavier pronounced. Pietro looked pale, and didn't say anything. “Show him to one of the rooms. I have matters to attend.” 

Remy took Pietro by the arm and led him away from the office, leaving Hank to question Xavier. As soon as they were out of earshot, he asked, “How'd it go?” 

“I don't want that man inside my head,” Pietro hissed. “You told me he would help.” 

“He is helping,” Remy said. “You got a place ta stay for nothing. The people here'll introduce you ta the world of humans, so you can blend in, and when the time comes, you can protect them.” 

“Protect them?” Pietro repeated. 

“Part of why we're here,” Remy said. “S'like when humans get arrested and they have ta do community service. This is our community service.” 

“Do the humans know--?”

“That we're angels?” Remy asked. “No. We go in, get out, and hope that they're stunned enough not ta ask questions. Xavier can alter memories, so it's all good.” Pietro shuddered. Remy steered him into an empty bedroom. 

“Fallen angels,” Pietro said. “We're not angels anymore. Not really. We're not worthy of the title.” 

“We will be,” Remy said. “Again. I mean, at least we get ta keep our gifts.” He tilted his head. “What's yours?” 

“You saw it,” Pietro said. 

“Yeah, but I didn't catch what it was,” Remy said. He spread his arms wide. “Look, we're kinda like a family now. No secrets--”

“Not with Xavier in our heads,” Pietro muttered. 

“He's discreet,” Remy said. “Anyway, look, my gift is energy. I can take things and charge them with energy, which explodes on contact with other things. I like using playing cards. Effective, but not deadly. Killing people ain't on the list of approved things we can do. Unless they're demons, but they're not people, as such. So, what're yours?” 

Pietro gave him a blank look. “Figure it out.” 

Remy sighed. “One might think you got sent down here for being difficult.” 

“Difficulty is a rather common trait among our kind, I would say,” Pietro told him. “Perhaps you feel at ease here, but I can't. Give me a good reason, and I just might trust you.” 

“Reasons,” Remy said. “I told you all about me--”

“Actions,” Pietro said. “Actions are the only things that matter.” 

“So you're a man of action?” Remy said. “Well, I'm sure there's something I can do...” 

“If you want to start,” Pietro said, “you can leave the room. I need time to myself.” 

Remy sketched a mock bow. “I'll win you over.” 

As he closed the door, he thought he heard Pietro say, “Don't count on it.” 

*

Pietro woke up shaking, covered in sweat. He sat up, wishing he could wrap himself in his wings for warmth. But they had been burned away. The instinct remained, reminding him of the loss. 

In his nightmares, he saw blood. So much blood, staining the white of his sister's gown red. Technically, angels didn't have siblings. But they tended to forge their own families, relationships. There was an order—the elders took on the younger ones, mentored them when they were young. It wasn't quite analogous to human relationships. It was much more practical, based on what was needed. Love didn't quite describe it. 

Love was too human. 

But Pietro and Wanda had spent so much time together, they formed a relationship based on emotion rather than practicality. Like brother and sister. They loved each other, like siblings. Like family. 

That was a mistake. 

A good angel did not love. Their father had made that clear. He'd called Pietro weak for allowing emotions to effect him. Called him human, as if it were an insult. 

Pietro knew that the nightmare wasn't real, knew that he was only seeing something that could have been rather than something that was, but it haunted him anyway. The nightmare was a reminder. 

He hadn't talked to Wanda since. He hadn't been given the chance. 

The worst thing about the nightmare were the thoughts that followed. The thoughts that Wanda had been horrified by what Pietro had done. That she didn't love him anymore because he'd gone too far.

That she thought he deserved this. 

*

“I wouldn't go in there if I were you.” 

Pietro spun around. Remy stood behind him, watching him carefully. “Why not?” 

Remy gestured to the steel doors. “Danger room. That's where we train. But if you aren't expecting, you know, danger, then it can give you quite the beating.” 

“Why do we need this?” Pietro said. 

“Fallen angels walk the earth,” Remy said, “but so do demons. I told you about that.” 

“I didn't know we confronted them,” Pietro said. 

“Sometimes,” Remy said with a shrug. “Xavier likes ta be ready for anything.” 

“And how many times have you fought a demon?” Pietro asked. 

“Not once,” Remy told him. “But I do like getting the opportunity ta exercise my gift. Keep myself prepared. Otherwise it gets kinda boring.” 

Pietro glanced at the steel doors again. 

“Xavier likes us all ta train four times a week,” Remy added. “He says the schedule gives us structure, or something.” 

“You don't seem very structured,” Pietro pointed out. 

“Nah,” Remy said, “but I need it. Before I came here I was digging myself a deeper hole. Stealing, cheating other people, generally screwing up my chances at ever going back. This place helps keep me on the straight path. And occasionally, I get ta do good.” 

“It sounds like you've adjusted rather well,” Pietro said, but there was skepticism in his voice. 

“And you still need ta adjust. We could spar, if you want.” 

“Against the danger room?” 

“Against each other,” Remy corrected. “Or are you scared?” 

Pietro frowned at him. “You just want to figure out my gift.” 

“Maybe,” Remy said. “But I'm also bored, and I'm sure you are, too.” 

“I have read most of the books in Xavier's library,” Pietro said. Remy raised his eyebrows. “Fine. We'll spar.” 

“Loser buys drinks tonight,” Remy said. He extended a hand. 

Pietro took it. 

*

The danger room was empty. Pietro and Remy stood in the middle, Remy with his staff, Pietro with nothing.

“Interesting choice, mon ami,” Remy said. And then he lunged. 

Pietro dodged, then tried to knock Remy off balance from behind. But Remy anticipated the move and spun around, swinging his staff and fully expecting to catch Pietro in the chest. 

But he didn't, because Pietro was behind him again, and this time he nearly did manage to knock Remy off his feet. 

Remy reached into his pocket and began charging one of his cards with energy. He spun around, swung the staff, and threw the card in the direction Pietro dodged. Pietro made a startled noise as he jumped back and the card exploded on the floor. How he'd managed to see the thing coming, Remy couldn't guess, but he wasn't about to leave another opening, instead swinging his staff again. This time he connected with Pietro's ribs. 

Pietro exhaled sharply and grabbed the staff before Remy could pull it away. He attempted to yank it out of Remy's hands, but Remy was stronger, and he regained control pretty easily. 

And then Pietro disappeared. 

“Wha--” A gust of wind ruffled his hair, and Remy grabbed several cards and began charging them, all the while looking around to try and figure out where his adversary had gone. 

His answer came when something shoved, hard, into his back and he fell forward onto the ground. With a snarl, he scrambled onto his back and threw the cards. One of them hit Pietro in the stomach and knocked him down, allowing Remy enough time to get back on his feet and regain his breath. And then he launched himself at Pietro. 

Pietro dodged, but not before Remy managed to grab a handful of his shirt. He nearly fell over as Pietro tried to pull away, and for a moment, the whole room blurred. When it stopped, Remy noticed they were on the opposite side of the room. But he didn't think about this for long. Instead he grabbed Pietro and forced him to the ground, pinning his arms to his side. 

“Yield?” he asked. 

A flash of fear passed across Pietro's face, but maybe Remy imagined it, because the next thing he knew he was flipped over and his head hit the hard floor and he heard ringing in his ears and Pietro said, quietly, “Yield.” 

His eyes were terribly cold. 

Then he stood up and brushed himself off. 

Remy blinked a few times to allow his vision to return to normal before gingerly getting to his feet. Pietro was watching him with a blank expression on his face, but Remy could tell he was thinking. 

“Okay, I'm impressed,” Remy said. “Your power's speed.” 

“Yes,” Pietro said. 

“And super-fast reflexes,” Remy said. “Can you turn it off?” 

“No,” Pietro said. “You owe me a drink.” He turned and started walking towards the door. 

“I guess I do,” Remy muttered, following him. 

*

Remy didn't realize that a drink wouldn't get Pietro drunk. Nor would two or three. Four shots of something strong would, but not for long. 

“So the speed applies ta everything?” he asked. Pietro nodded. “What a drag.” 

Pietro took two shots in quick succession. He paused for a moment and then downed the other two. 

“So what'd you do ta get kicked outta heaven?” Remy asked. 

Pietro gave him a dark look. 

“Yeah I know it's a rude question,” Remy said, shrugging, “but everybody wants ta ask it. Otherwise, they spend all their time trying ta figure it out behind your back. Making up rumors. I'm just being up front about it.” 

“How good of you,” Pietro said. 

“So?” At first Remy thought he wouldn't answer. But Pietro started talking, words slurring a bit. 

“I killed for my family. The heavens don't look kindly upon murderers. I'm not sorry. I couldn't let my sister be exiled for the crimes of another.” 

“What other?” 

Pietro's expression twisted. “The man who called himself our father.” 

Remy frowned. He'd heard of angels who trusted each other enough to become the equivalent of families. He hadn't been one himself. 

“He was our mentor,” Pietro said. His hands shook as he picked up an empty shot glass and turned it over. “He trained us to use our abilities. He wanted all-out war, not just against the demons, but against the humans as well. He wanted us to take the world as our own. The universe. He tried to use us and our powers, pushing us to our limits. He wanted Wanda to use her powers against the humans, and they were found out. She was to be exiled. You have to understand, he could be persuasive. He had a lot of power himself, enough to hurt us, if there was a need.” 

Remy stared. 

Pietro continued, as if he couldn't stop. “I-think-Wanda-can't-forgive-me-because-despite-everything-he-was-our-mentor-and-we-once-trusted-him-and-now-she-must-hate-me-and-I-should-have-done-more-to-protect-her-before-it-got-to-this-point-but-”

“Slow down,” Remy said. 

“I can't!” Pietro snarled. He slammed the shot glass down and it shattered. Several shards embedded themselves in his hand. 

“Okay!” Remy jumped up and grabbed Pietro's other arm, dragging him towards the bathroom. Several people were staring, but Remy ignored them. He pulled them into the tiny men's room and locked the door. 

Pietro was looking down at his hand. Remy took it and pulled Pietro towards the sink. Blood dripped onto the floor. His palm was a pool of red, and Remy swallowed thickly as he leaned forward to get a better look. 

“I think we need to rinse this off,” he said. 

“Fine,” Pietro said. His voice sounded far away. 

Remy put his hand underneath the water to wash away the blood. Pietro didn't flinch. He continued not to flinch as Remy began digging the glass out of his skin. Some of the shards went pretty deep, and he tried not to think about what he was doing because otherwise it would make him feel sick. 

He wasn't usually squeamish, but there was a special place in hell for glass injuries. 

Once he was sure that the glass was out, he washed Pietro's hand again. “I don't suppose you got anything to wrap this in?” 

“It's fine,” Pietro said, pulling his hand away. “Thank you.” 

“Uh, no problem,” Remy said. “Maybe we should go--” 

Pietro grabbed Remy's arm and pulled him close. “Thank you,” he repeated, and then he kissed him. 

Remy's eyes widened. His first instinct was the pull away, but Pietro was deepening the kiss, and he couldn't not respond. Pietro was attractive. Angels usually didn't like to kiss people. Remy found himself running a hand through Pietro's hair, which was soft. Pietro managed to get him up against the door. 

Furious knocking caught their attention. Pietro jumped back, shocked. 

Remy opened the door to an irate looking man standing outside. “Well, this is awkward,” he said, and he and Pietro darted out of the bathroom and made their way outside. 

It was much quieter in the street. Remy fell into step with Pietro and nudged him in the arm. “Wanna let me know what that was all about?” 

“I was drunk,” Pietro said. 

“And you're not now?” Remy asked. 

Pietro gave him a look. “No. I'm not.” 

Remy tried and failed not to look hurt. “Well, if that's all it was...”

“I-have-to-get-back-sorry,” Pietro said, and then he was gone. 

*

The next day Xavier called them to a mission. “The opposing side is active,” he said. “They've been escalating the conflict for some time.” 

“Conflict?” Pietro asked. 

“War,” Remy said. “He means the war. The ones that the angels up there,” he jerked his head towards the ceiling, “are apparently too high and mighty ta fight.” 

“They've kidnapped Jean,” Xavier said. “Luckily the location she's been taken to is far away from humans. But have no doubt that their plans are to hurt us. To bring our numbers down. They will kill, and you will die, so be careful. And show no mercy.” 

As they left the room Pietro asked, “Who is Jean?” 

“Powerful telepath,” Remy said. “Come ta think of it, she's been missing for a few days. But the rest of them ain't exactly social. Having you around's been great.” 

“I remedy that situation?” Pietro asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“You have no idea,” Remy said. He swore he saw Pietro grin briefly, but when he looked, Pietro seemed to be thinking about something else. 

*

“They were one of us, once,” Remy said. He rubbed his temples. “I hate this.” They were standing in a forest at the edge of a clearing, four of them. Him, Pietro, a man called Scott who apparently had a strong attachment to Jean, and a young woman called Kitty. 

“We could be them if we're not careful,” Scott said. 

“You think we don't know that?” Remy asked. “So what's the plan?” 

“The plan,” Scott said, “is to get into their camp and out with the least amount of confrontation. I'm of the opinion that we must stick together--”

“I beg to differ,” Pietro said. All three of his teammates turned to look at him. His whole body was angled towards the clearing like a coiled spring. “I can get there, find Jean, and get back in the fastest amount of time.” 

“You've never even met her,” Scott said. “And we shouldn't go alone.” 

“They have powers as well,” Remy pointed out. 

“Jean has red hair, yes?” Pietro asked. 

Scott frowned. “Yes. But--” 

Pietro disappeared, leaving behind a gust of wind. 

“Damn it!” Scott hissed. 

Kitty looked concerned. “What do we do?” 

“Make a new plan,” Remy said. “So the plan is: get ready ta run. If Pietro's getting her, it won't take them long ta notice.” He began charging one of his cards, just in case. 

The sound of gunfire startled them. There was an explosion, followed by shouting and a distant tree catching fire. 

“Shit,” Remy hissed. “Looks like we got a fight on our hands.” He ran out of their cover, the other two following behind. 

Another explosion pierced through the air, sending flames shooting towards the sky. 

A man with claws came running into the clearing, charging at them. Remy threw a card at him but he dodged, and Scott used his laser vision to shoot him. 

“Creed,” Kitty muttered. “Damn it.” 

“Find the others,” Scott said. “I'll handle this.” 

Remy and Kitty ran towards the burning trees while Scott distracted Creed, but were accosted by a man wearing a metal mask. 

“Oh, fuck me!” Remy shouted as the man gestured at them and they flew backwards. 

“Who the hell is that?” Kitty asked. 

“Doom,” Remy said. “Shitty name but, he's one for theatrics. And he has a mean bite.” 

Doom strode towards them, hands glowing with some sort of strange energy. 

Then a blur slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. 

Pietro skidded to a halt and glanced at Remy and Kitty. He had leaves in his hair, and burns on his clothes. “What are you doing?” 

“What are you doing?” Remy countered. “You were supposed to wait for the plan!” 

“What plan?” Another explosion cut him off. 

“Scott's plan!” Remy snapped. “Where's Jean?” 

“With Scott,” Pietro said. He didn't seem phased by Remy's anger. “I saw a few more but--” He was cut off as something cut through the air and hit him in the arm. He gasped, staggering forward, and whipped around to see what it was. 

A woman with a strange spot over one eye was holding a gun and aiming it at him. 

Pietro darted forward and the woman ended up on the ground, unconscious, her gun tossed a few feet away. 

“Okay,” Remy said, helping Kitty to her feet, “this isn't exactly how I hoped things would go.” He glanced at Doom, who was struggling to his feet. “I didn't want ta deal with them.” 

“Why not?” said a voice. Remy groaned and turned to find Alex smirking at him. 

Alex and Scott had been close, once, and then they'd fallen on opposite sides. Or something like that. Scott didn't have a perfect record but Alex had gone off the deep end. 

He aimed a blast of power at Remy, who dodged. It ended up incinerating a nearby bush. “We have more numbers than ever,” he said with a laugh. “I doubt you have long before this war is over, and you've lost. But there's still a chance to join the winning side.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Remy snapped, throwing a card at his feet. It exploded, sending him flying back. 

It was then that Remy saw Pietro dart into view. “What the--” 

A blast knocked him into the ground, and then Alex was on top of him. “You have a choice.” 

“Yeah, and I don't choose you,” Remy snapped. Alex's face twisted, and his blackened wings emerged from his back, spreading. They were no more than broken and charred bone, but he also knew that they could impale. 

He wasn't looking forward to that. 

But then Alex was knocked off him, and he turned to find Pietro wrestling with him. Alex managed to pull himself loose and ran towards the burning trees. With a shout, Pietro darted after him, catching him just as he reached the edge of the clearing. But again, Alex managed to pull away, and the two of them disappeared. 

“No!” Remy ran after them, got halfway there and nearly got hit by a knife, which buried itself in the ground. “Come on!” He spun to see Doom making his way towards him. 

Doom didn't seem to notice Kitty coming up behind him. Remy extended his staff, ready for a fight, when Kitty thrust an arm through Doom's chest. He gasped and fell to his knees. Kitty retracted her arm and he fell forward, lying still. 

Kitty looked pale. 

“Thanks,” Remy said. She only nodded, and he turned and ran towards the trees. 

Every few seconds another, small explosion seemed to make the ground shake. The forest now resembled a miniature version of hell (not that Remy had been there, but the humans' interpretation had rubbed off on him.) He wondered what they'd been doing to Jean here. Probably trying to turn her, or get information. There were lots of things that could be used to inflict pain. They seemed to have acquired quite a few weapons. Right now, a fair amount of them were on fire. 

He saw Alex stumble into view. Then Pietro rushed at him and pushed him into the flames. 

There was a high pitched scream, and Alex surged out of the fire, burning. That didn't stop him from lunging at Pietro, who caught him. The fire began to lick at Pietro's arms as Alex tried to push him to the ground. 

Instead, Pietro pinned Alex to the ground, and began punching him, shouting words that Remy couldn't hear. The flames came closer to them. Remy began charging his staff and moved forward, slowly. “Pietro, get off him.” 

Pietro didn't listen. He didn't even seemed to notice that Alex was extending his burning wings. He just kept punching every bit of him he could reach, his hands a blur. The flames were licking his shoes. If Alex didn't kill him, he'd burn to death. 

“Pietro!” Remy began to run forward. “Get off him now!” 

“Pietro!” Alex mock-cried, and he drove the bones of his wings into Pietro's torso. 

Pietro jerked, and his face twisted. He grabbed Alex rather than pulling away, and smashed him into the ground. Now he, too, was covered in flames. But he kept hold of Alex, making sure that the demon couldn't escape. 

Remy reached the two of them and smashed Alex in the head with his staff, just to make sure that he wouldn't be causing them trouble. Then he put his arms around Pietro and pulled, and with a snapping sound, Pietro fell back into Remy. Struggling. 

“You idiot!” Remy shouted, wrestling Pietro to the floor, putting out the flames. Pietro was trying to get away, but Remy slammed him into the ground. “What the hell are you doing? Don't you get it? You're not as powerful as you were. You can die easier now! And there's no coming back!” 

“He would've killed you!” Pietro snarled, his eyes wild as he tried to get out of Remy's grip. “I can't let that happen. I can't—let me go!” 

“No.” Remy dug his fingers harder into Pietro's shoulders. It probably didn't hurt as much as the burns, or the puncture wounds, which were turning Pietro's clothes dark with blood. “We have ta go, now.” 

“He needs to burn,” Pietro hissed. “He needs-”

“It's over,” Remy snapped. “Get it through your head. We need ta leave, or else we'll die, too.” 

“I need to finish this,” Pietro insisted, struggling again. “I need--”

“What is wrong with you?” 

“Let me go!” 

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Remy shouted. “Do you want ta die?” 

“Let me go!” 

“WHY?” 

“She doesn't need me! She will never forgive me and I can't--!” Pietro's breathing became ragged, and his voice cracked. “She never needed me. She doesn't—I need—I can't be alone.” 

“You idiot,” Remy said. “You can't hurt yourself just because you don't want ta be alone. You're not alone.” 

Pietro closed his eyes. “She doesn't need--” 

“Come on,” Remy said, pulling Pietro up. Pietro sagged against him with a sound like a sob, and Remy practically had to drag him back into the clearing. 

By the time they got there, Pietro had become limp and unresponsive. Scott and Jean were waiting for them, Jean looking haggard and worn. Kitty stood off to the side, looking ill. 

“We need ta get him medical help,” Remy said. 

Scott nodded. “We're done here.” 

*

Pietro woke up a few hours later in the medical wing of Xavier's mansion. 

Remy had taken up a post in the chair next to his bed. When Pietro woke up, he told him, “you really hurt yourself.” 

“If I recall,” Pietro said, voice hoarse, “other people hurt me.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

Pietro sighed and closed his eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” Remy asked, sounding only a little bit apologetic. 

“Sore,” Pietro said. “Tired. I forgot I can hurt more easily here.” 

“That ain't it and you know it,” Remy said. 

Pietro opened his eyes again. “I've lost everyone,” he said. “I might never see them again. They might never forgive me. They most likely think I'm week for even feeling such things. But I can't lose people here. Not after them.” 

“You won't,” Remy said. “I'm here and, frankly, I don't wanna die.” 

“You can't guarantee that,” Pietro said. 

“And you can't guarantee that I will die,” Remy said. “The point is, throwing yourself inta life threatening situations won't fix that. I can help you adjust, but only if you want ta try.” 

“I miss them,” Pietro said. 

“You might like it here,” Remy said. “Humans relate ta that sorta thing much more than most of us. And, there's a chance you'll make it back one day. You got a choice. You can get used ta it, or give up.”

Pietro glanced over at Remy. His lips twitched. “Wanda always said I was too stubborn.” 

Remy grinned back. “So, how about we discuss how you care about me?” 

Pietro rolled his eyes. “I can stop caring just as easily. Perhaps you will be the one to make me see just how detrimental attachments can be, and I'll finally be less of a disappointment. At the very least, I won't have an inconvenient need of others.” 

Remy stared at him for a few moments. Pietro's expression was completely serious. 

“That won't happen,” Remy said. 

“How do you know?” 

“Part of the reason you got kicked out is that you care too much,” Remy said. “And you need people. And most of us see that as a weakness, but I don't.” 

“Why not?” Pietro asked. 

“I just might need people, too.”


End file.
